Silver lining
by wolf of infinity
Summary: He'd done exactly what Norway had forbid him so many times, and it had ended up destroying one of the things his friend held dearest in the world. There was no excuse for that... Denmark x Norway, angsty one-shot


_I'm back with a new Denmark x Norway fic for you guys~ This actually ended up pretty long :3 It is a one-shot, and I doubt I'll write a sequel, so if you for some strange reason want more... sorry. _

_Be aware that it contains angst, swearing and fluff. Oh, and of course; shounen-ai/yaoi (nothing hard core) ^^ Not your cup of tea? Then just click that little "back"-button up there to the left. If it is your cup of tea; I hope you'll enjoy the story!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia – Axis Powers or any of its characters._

oOo

Denmark was a generally active and fun-loving nation. He was not a nation that enjoyed sitting around doing boring paper work, signing agreements, and generally doing dull things that meant sitting still for more than half an hour at a time. Which was why he was currently doing the exact opposite of his duties – wandering in the direction of Norway's house, quite innocently really. If his boss found out he'd skipped out on his duties again, things would be bad, but Denmark never really liked thinking too much about consequences.

After what seemed like ages, he reached Norway's house and moved to open the door... only to find it locked. Norway was definitely home, he could hear the faint tunes of a violin somewhere inside the building. Sighing, he knocked quite energetically on the door, before pushing the door bell several times. When this caused no reaction, he began playing the rhythms of some Norwegian Eurovision-song, using the door, the door bell and – when this wasn't loud enough – his voice.

There was the unmistakeable sound of bow slicing against violin strings in a sharp, inharmonious tone, before it went silent. Denmark grinned as the door soon was unlocked and swung open to reveal a visibly annoyed Norway. Well, visible to Denmark at least – while his face was neutral as always, his eyes had a certain dark hint, and his shoulders were a bit tense.

"I'm in love, with a fairytale~!" he cut off when Norway moved to close the door in his face. "Good day, Norge!" the cheerful greeting was accompanied by a wide grin.

"Not anymore," the shorter male said quietly, his voice having a certain bite to it, which Denmark promptly ignored as he swiftly moved inside, kicking off his boots.

The house was as warm and cosy as he remembered. For a person so cold and dull, Norway had excellent taste in interior, down to the smallest detail. The only downside was the occasional piece of IKEA-furniture – he should know that Danish furniture was so much better than that Swedish shit...

"Want something to drink...?" the sentence was uttered every time a guest arrived, even if said guest was Denmark, and even if he practically forced his way inside. The blonde Norwegian might not always want company, but that didn't mean he'd allow himself to be a bad host.

"Beer?" Denmark grinned.

"It's two o' clock in the afternoon..."

"So?"

"So, you'll have coffee, tea, poison or nothing at all."

"You actually keep poison around?" Norway just gave him a blank stare that somehow made the Dane a bit nervous. "Heh... coffee is fine."

The Norwegian moved into the kitchen, and left Denmark to stand in the entrance hall, looking around. It sure took time... Deciding to have a look around, he wandered off towards the section of the first floor where he knew Norway's living room was. It certainly was his favourite room out of the whole building – and the house had a lot of interesting rooms. It wasn't too big, with warm colours and wooden walls and floor. A doorway to the left led to the library, where large rows of wooden shelves had been stuffed with books throughout time. There were so many books, and in enough different genres to satisfy even the most picky reader. Denmark wasn't too interested in literature, really, but even his interest was perked by the huge amounts of books. He also knew that the Norwegian had a whole section on fairytales, and this was an interest they shared.

Entering the living room, he noticed Norway's violin lying in its open case on the table. It was a gorgeous piece of work – old, but well-maintained, with intricate decorations. Denmark knew that it was one of the Norwegian's most valued possessions. He'd had the thing for ages, and it meant a lot to him. Probably more than Denmark could imagine.

Denmark's interest and curiosity was perked now. Norway always kept the thing in his room, and never let the Dane touch it – because "Denmark was too clumsy", he said. Tch, Denmark knew how to be careful sometimes, he wasn't some child who couldn't hold delicate things without dropping them.

Walking over, he glanced over to the door, before smiling a bit, carefully picking it up from its case. For a moment, he just looked at it, taking in the beautiful carvings on it – that must have taken ages to carve... and with such perfection too! Denmark might not be too observant, but he could see the time and love behind the making of the instrument.

Holding it up to his chin, like he'd seen Norway do so often, he couldn't stop the grin from spreading across his face. He nearly wished he knew how to play the instrument, even if he knew very well he didn't have the devotion or the patience to learn.

Picking up the bow, he pretended to play, careful not to actually touch the strings – Norway would no doubt be furious if he caught him playing. Using his foot to beat the rhythm, he moved across the living room, imaging he was playing to some upbeat Norwegian folk tune.

He wasn't exactly sure how it happened, but at some point, his foot caught in the carpet and he felt himself losing balance. Stumbling he hit a fairly large cabinet, before falling against the hard, concrete surface of the fireplace. Despite his pain, he nearly gave a sound of triumph – he'd saved the violin from hitting the fireplace!

The triumph faded to horror when the heavy wooden cabinet wobbled and fell on top of the instrument, the sound of the glass door being destroyed mixing with the sound of shattering wood...

Denmark couldn't move, for a moment he just stared at the cabinet and some part of the handle of the violin sticking out from underneath it. He could have sworn his heart had stopped, and his mind had stopped thinking anything but "_shit... shit... shit!_" Then he heard a new sound of something clattering to the floor. Looking to the door way, he saw Norway standing there, hands still looking like they were holding the tray with coffee and cups that had just crashed to the wooden floor.

He'd never seen anyone grow so pale so quickly, and especially not his stoic friend. His skin had grown a strange ghostly white, his eyes were wide, and his lips were parted ever so slightly in pure shock – or horror, Denmark wasn't entirely sure. In truth, Norway's reaction scared him. He wasn't having a heart attack or something, was he?

"N-Norge..." he managed to stutter out. The other didn't react. His eyes were trained on the visible pieces of his beloved instrument, as if he was in a daze. Denmark stood slowly from his position, and swallowed heavily as he with some trouble managed to lift the cabinet back into its original position – the glass door and the objects that had been inside, scattered across the floor. He nearly wished he'd left the cabinet lying.

The once proud, perfectly maintained violin, was reduced to little more than a misshaped pile of crumpled wood.

"Oh God..." He breathed, looking back at Norway again, and wishing that the other would just say something, _react_ in some way or the other! This silence was too much. It would even have been better if Norway tried to kill him – he could deal with that. This, however...

"I'm... so, so sorry, Norge...! I never meant to..." there was nothing he could say, and he swallowed his own excuses. He'd done exactly what Norway had forbid him so many times, and it had ended up destroying one of the things his friend held dearest in the world. There was no excuse for that.

"Out..."

Denmark blinked. Norway had spoken. His voice was so quiet, even more so than usual. His gaze never left the violin, but his hand had raised to his chest, where it seemed to cling almost subconsciously to the chest of his shirt. Upon taking a closer look, Denmark noticed that he was trembling.

"N-Norge..."

"I said... get out." Every word was spoken almost inaudibly, and Denmark knew by that tone that this was even worse than he first thought.

"Ok... If you want me to leave, I'll go..." he moved to the doorway, moving past the other, who didn't move an inch. He stopped for a moment, turning back. "Norge, please believe me... I'm truly sorry." There was no reply to this, but he hadn't expected one either. With a last glance at the other's rigid back, he left the house, walking until the building was out of sight, before sinking down on a stone beside the road.

His blue eyes lifted to the skies and for once took the time to think about consequences.

oOo

To say that concentrating on his paper work was impossible was an understatement. His boss had been rather angry when he got back, but it had quickly melted into a mix of confusion and concern upon seeing the Dane's expression.

The days passed, and all Denmark could seem to think about was Norway. Was he all right...? He was fairly sure the Norwegian hated him now, but he couldn't blame him. There was no going around this; he'd ripped part of the other's heart out and crushed it under a cabinet. Quite literarily so. How the hell was he supposed to make up for that? He didn't know. He honestly didn't know, and that scared the crap out of him.

Currently sitting in his study, unable to focus on anything but the bleary autumn day outside his window, he gave a sigh. Leaning back, he racked his brain for any sort of plan to make things better. He'd even lost sleep going over one idea after the other. They all just ended in one conclusion; he was screwed.

A loud crash made him jump in his chair, and he sat up abruptly, alarmed. He blinked as he saw that it was the door to his study, connecting harshly with the wall, that had made the sound. The handle actually rattled and fell to the floor with a clatter. All that seemed unimportant, however, compared to the man standing in the doorway.

Denmark had never seen Iceland look so positively... murderous before. Dear God, he sure lived up to his name right now, although there was a flame behind that icy glare that reminded him of the many volcanoes back at the kid's place.

"Ice..."

"What the fuck did you do?" Iceland's voice seemed to have risen a couple of octaves and he clearly struggled to stay composed, fists clenched at his sides as he trembled with fury. Denmark found himself stunned to silence by his demeanour, unable to react. "I come over to visit and I find him like... like that...!" Iceland shook his head, his eyes getting a haunted expression.

"Like what...?" Denmark whispered hoarsely, dreading the answer.

"He was crying, you bastard, _crying_!"

Denmark sank back into his chair, not having noticed ever standing up. That sentence alone was enough, but put together with Iceland's reaction, it made his heart drop. Norway never cried. The only time Denmark could remember ever seeing him cry was after the Black Death had killed off most of his population all those years ago.

"What did you do...?" Iceland seemed to be struggling against a new emotion now, and Denmark had to look away at seeing the fear and concern in the younger nation's eyes.

"I managed to... destroy his violin..." Denmark whispered, and that sentence was enough to make Iceland pale and mutter something in rapid Icelandic. Denmark didn't need to know Icelandic to understand the general meaning behind the words.

"I don't know what to do, Iceland..." he murmured, and to his great frustration, he felt tears burning in his eyes. Rubbing them furiously with the back of his hand, he didn't dare look at Iceland.

"And you think I would...? I've never seen him like this before. It... scares me."

Silence fell upon the study yet again, until Denmark swallowed heavily and stood, gripping desperately at the little ounces of determination he had.

"That makes two of us," he said, before fetching his coat from the coat hanger.

"Where are you going...?" Iceland asked quietly. All anger seemed to be replaced by a numb helplessness now, and it made Denmark's heart give a painful twist inside his chest, yet again. God, he hated being the cause of this shit.

"I'm going to see him. I can't... I can't stand just sitting around anymore."

Iceland said nothing at first, as Denmark walked away. He nearly missed the quiet but intense sentence that was uttered behind him.

"If you upset him further, I'll never forgive you..."

He didn't doubt the truth in that statement, however vulnerable it sounded. If Iceland was anything like his brother, he stood true to his word. Denmark only nodded slowly before leaving the boy behind.

"Neither will I," he whispered to himself as he headed through the chilly weather towards Norway's home.

The trip seemed to pass far too quickly, and no matter how much he struggled to think of what he was going to say, he couldn't find anything. His mind was completely blank. This was why he felt as if he was standing on the brink of a steep cliff without any form of security, once he'd reached Norway's house.

Knocking on the door, he wasn't surprised to receive only silence in return. Trying the handle, he found the door to be unlocked, and opened it slowly.

"Norge?" he called hesitantly, and flinched at how... uncharacteristic his voice sounded. It didn't sound like him at all. "Are you here...?" There was no answer, and he stepped a bit further inside.

An almost unnoticeable breeze caught his attention and he found himself following it. It led him down the corridor and out to the veranda at the back of the house. The door was open, allowing the biting winds to enter the house. Denmark halted in the doorway, looking at the sight that met him with a new lump forming in his throat. Norway was sitting there, feet dangling off the edge of the veranda ledge.

"Norge...?" he asked carefully, voice hardly more than a whisper. No reply. "Please... say something... anything...!" he nearly pleaded. Norway shifted, ever so slightly. At first there was no sound but the wind whistling and the melodious notes of the small stream running past the house and disappearing into the woods.

"What do you expect me to say...?" came a quiet whisper after what seemed like an eternity.

"Say that you hate me... that you n-never want to see me again... that... you can never forgive me..." Those were the words Denmark feared more than anything. Sure, Norway insulted and pushed him away on a regular basis, but he had always had a small hope that it wasn't true. That Norway was just saying it out of habit. In truth, Norway's rejection was the one thing he believed he wouldn't be able to handle. The mere thought of it terrified him to no end.

"And then what...? Would that make everything better again?" Norway whispered. Denmark didn't quite know how to respond to that. Instead he found himself walking closer, stopping a few feet away from the other.

Norway still refused to look at him, and the way his hair fell into his face, Denmark couldn't see his expression.

"Perhaps having me out of your life... would be for the best." He was killing himself with these words, but forcefully pushed back the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. Norway's reply made it damn hard, though.

"Perhaps..."

Biting his lower lip, Denmark turned and began to walk away again. Before he reached the doorway, however, he felt two arms slipping around him from behind, and froze at the sound of hitched breathing.

"I don't think... I'm willing to risk it, though," he heard Norway whisper, his voice breaking at the end, and was unable to hold back his emotions any longer, his shoulders trembling in tune with the body pressed up against his back.

"You should be hating me..."

"I should."

"... what I did was unforgivable!"

"It was..."

"Then _why_...?" His question sounded more like a pleading for an answer, for some sort of logic. For some reason as to why Norway was holding on to him as if his life depended on it, when he should be pushing him away for good.

"Because you are the most... ridiculous, outrageous, idiotic and... loveable fool I've ever had the misfortune to meet, you ass!" Norway choked, burying his face in the back of his coat. Denmark could have sworn his heart stopped beating for a moment. Slowly, he found the courage to turn around, and to face the other nation.

He didn't know what to say. Norway shook his head slowly, as if he couldn't quite sort out which emotions were dominant in the battle Denmark could see in his eyes.

"God, Denmark, you'll be the death of me someday..." he whispered eventually, closing his eyes as the lingering tears dripped off his eyelashes and slid down his pale cheeks silently. Denmark couldn't resist anymore, and simply wrapped his arms around the other, holding him tight as he felt Norway gripping at the back of his coat, melting into the embrace.

"Do you think you can ever forgive me...?" Denmark murmured quietly.

"You idiot... do I really need to spell it out for you?" Norway broke away from the embrace and Denmark's heart sank. Not for long, however, as the smaller nation gripped the front of his coat and pulling him down, until their lips met. Denmark's eyes widened in shock, and as the kiss ended, he could only stand there, bent over, lips parted and a stunned expression on his face.

Norway was eying him blankly, and they just stood there for a while, before Denmark swallowed heavily.

"Norge, you..." he cut off, unable to voice his thoughts. This couldn't be true, could it? It wasn't news to him that he liked the Norwegian more than just as a friend, but not once had Norway suggested that he felt the same.

"You really are the most oblivious..." Norway shook his head. "Do you understand now? Losing a violin is one thing, but to lose you..." he was abruptly cut off as Denmark pressed his lips against his. Denmark closed his eyes as Norway parted his lips, allowing him entrance.

"God, Norge, I'm so sorry! For everything!" he murmured almost feverishly in between the kisses, and felt a rush of emotions when Norway responded with a small moan. Denmark knew it would take time before Norway really got over the loss of his beloved instrument, but he was prepared for that. Time was irrelevant when he was with Norway, after all.

Neither of the two nations noticed as Iceland backed away silently from the veranda doorway, blushing heavily as he made his way back to the front door of his brother's house. It seemed things were going to sort out for the best despite everything. That was all he needed to know. Exiting and heading down the path from his house he shook his head with a small smile.

He'd never understand the relationship those two had, he figured, as he sighed and looked up at the grey skies, where the sun was beginning to shine through once again.

oOo

_I'd be really happy if you could take the time to write me a review telling me what you thought of it~ Faves are great, but it just isn't as great as a good review..._

_Norge = The Norwegian/Danish equivalent of Norway_

_Ciao for now~_


End file.
